4 The Twenty Mile Hike

The desert was scorching hot, it was only eight in the morning, but the sun beat down upon them with all the fury of a sledgehammer. Not only that, but the wind brought with it an extra element of heat that was unpleasant. So far they'd been on their "hike" for about fifty minutes. Conlin was at the back of the line of soldiers running through, well maybe actually just jogging through the desert.

"I hate this shit." The recruit in front of Thomas muttered under his breath. Unfortunately for everyone, Drill Sergeant Lloyd didn't have a sense of humor and he had the ears of a cat.

"DID I JUST HEAR ONE OF YOU MAGGOTS COMPLAIN?!" Lloyd shouted at them. "PICK UP THE GODDAMN PACE, I WANNA SEE YOU WORMS SQUEAL LIKE PIGS! DOUBLE TIME LET'S GO!"

Conlin could always count on the drill sergeant to try to give them a headache at every opportunity. Of course he knew that would happen, but he didn't do anything to prevent it, he needed to polish his body after all and get it up to speed, as long as he had sufficient strength, he could already prevent some of the deaths he had seen. Of course he couldn't prevent all of them, but maybe if he became an all-rounder who is skilled evenly at most jobs, a jack-of-all-trades so to speak.

The others were cursing the recruit that spoke out first, just not loud enough that the drill sergeant would hear them. Of course Conlin knew what Drill Sergeant Lloyd's true aim was, to destabilize the platoon, turn them against each other.He just had to use all of his previous knowledge to foster the leadership skills he never gained previously.

"Keep going bro, dig deep it's gonna be a long one," Conlin tried to bolster the recruit in front of him, both of them were sweating bullets by now. Of course he failed and the drill sergeant also heard him.

"RECRUIT CONLIN FRONT AND CENTER MAGGOT" Drill Sergeant Lloyd hollered at him. "LET'S SEE HOW WELL THE PLATOON LIKES YOU AFTER THEY'RE ALL FORCED TO RUN AT YOUR PACE. ANYONE WHO FALLS BEHIND FORFEITS CHOW WHEN WE GET BACK!"

"FUCK YOU CONLIN!" "EAT A BAG OF DICKS!" The rest of the recruits were understandably upset of course. No pain no gain though, Thomas double-timed it up to the front of the file and ran slightly faster than the last guy. This did not please the drill sergeant in the slightest.

"CONLIN YOU ROT INFESTED MAGGOT I KNOW YOU CAN RUN FASTER THAN THAT, WE'VE STILL GOT FIFTEEN MILES TO GO!" The drill sergeant paused for a second, smiled cruelly, and then added, "OR DO YOU WANT TO ADD ANOTHER FIVE TO THAT?!"

Thomas thought about it, but it wasn't worth the fight with the rest of the company. If he was going to work on his leadership skills, he had to have the platoon's best interest at heart. Even at the expense of shaping his body, which he could do on his free time anyways. He hated to make everyone else run faster, but he also needed to please the drill sergeant.

"SIR, NO SIR!" Thomas shouted in reply and sped up, some of the recruits in the back line were now starting to fall behind. It's rough going in the uneven desert terrain, it's been two hours since they've started and they've covered roughly six miles.

After another two miles the recruits started dropping like flies, first it was two, then three, then five. After another three miles, twelve recruits had collapsed, and the ones that collapsed first were but specks on the horizon, barely visible if you squinted hard enough. You might even mistake them for a cactus or rolling bramble brush. Thomas of course had slowed down considerably as the stamina for his current body was reaching it's end. However, something occurred that was beyond even his expectations.

"ALL STOP!" Drill Sergeant Lloyd shouted. "Take five minutes recruits, rest well, then we head back."

This had never happened in his previous life. Thomas was confused, because according to his memories, the drill sergeant should have made them get to the end of the twenty mile hike and start doing push-ups and other calisthenics before making them jog all the way back.

Something did not sit well with this situation, this was out of character for the drill sergeant he previously knew. He couldn't push down his gut feelings that he might have changed something. Of course by leading the company in the run he had already accomplished a small change. In his previous life he was always slacking and taking punishment from everyone for causing them to do extra calisthenics for his antics.

"BREAK'S UP RECRUITS, GET YOUR SORRY ASSES BACK IN LINE WE MARCH BACK" Lloyd was very loud and his voice echoed for a good couple of miles in the empty and silent desert. This should not be happening. Thomas felt a horrible feeling in the pit of his gut, but he couldn't figure out quite what was going to happen.

All the recruits lined back up and started marching in an orderly pace according to the drill sergeant's wishes. However, instead of marching back the way they came, they marched towards the west. A complete perpendicular course since they came from the south. Thomas groaned inwardly, the drill sergeant was way more cruel than he ever thought possible.

They weren't marching straight back because he intended to leave the recruits who fell behind stranded in the desert. At least that's what Thomas thought, it was the only reason they could be marching back in a roundabout way. He couldn't stand up to the drill sergeant as he was a recruit, but maybe, somehow he could get in touch with the camp's commanding officer. As far as Thomas knew, he was always a fair and impartial officer.

He had to figure out a way to stop this madness from becoming worse. If Lloyd was willing to strand twelve members of the twenty man company, who knows what other extreme methods he may be willing to employ in order to break their spirits. Knowing this though, Lloyd might simply wave it off as a character building exercise.

As if the drill sergeant was reading his thoughts, he suddenly said, "Not to worry, they won't be spending the night out here, I'll arrange a pick up for them, but they're still going without chow and they'll have double calisthenics from now on!" As there were only eight men of the twenty man company marching together, Lloyd didn't have to shout so everyone can hear him.

This worried Thomas, if they were going to be picked up, then why did he still have the horrible feeling in his gut? They were almost back to camp when Thomas suddenly figured it out. They had been marching and running for almost four hours total. That meant it was eleven in the morning. Almost time for tactical studies at noon, not only were they not going to eat morning chow, but they were also going to one of Thomas's worse subjects. He gritted his teeth.

Thomas would have to master tactics if he wanted to come out alive and on top. At least he would have some of his knowledge to fill in the blanks, but that wasn't going to be enough. He needed to learn to formulate his own solutions without the aid of filling in the blanks or what was the point? He needed to do and be more than he was in the past, and he was just getting started.